


here, in search

by AStrangeDaze (TerraRising)



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Lee Chan | Dino is a Little Shit, M/M, Team as Family, author sucks at tagging, no decided pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-19
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-10-31 07:58:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17845487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TerraRising/pseuds/AStrangeDaze
Summary: Chan thinks later - much, much later - that maybe there was a reason his hyungs insisted he keep the ring on after all, andmaybehe should have listened from the start.alternatively: How to Accidentally Kidnap a Stranger When Time-Travelling in Three Easy Steps by Lee Chan





	1. Pilot

 

It’s raining.

 

Droplets run off the bright red umbrella that he’s holding to pitter patter away near his feet. A bright red umbrella that he realizes suddenly, ten minutes after he scrambled out the front door, was not in fact his, and man, he hoped Seungkwan hyung had an extra or he was going to get an earful tonight. The ground beneath his feet gives a wet, sad sounding squish and Chan winces, torn away from his thoughts, regretting taking this shortcut just a little bit as muddy water oozes its way into his shoes. Another step and more water seeps through, soaking his socks and ruining his runners, and yeah, make that a substantial amount of regret.

 

He wiggles his toes a little, grimacing as wet socks cling to the digits, and he wonders. Maybe, just _maybe_.

 

Chan glances around surreptitiously; there was no one around in sight, no one to tattle-tale, and he was much too close to city centre for any readings to be accurate enough to definitely pin it on him anyways. He fingers the ring around his pinky finger and bites his lower lip, pulling at it - just _one_ spell wouldn’t hurt right? Just so he could get to class without walking in with buckets for shoes.

 

The ring slips frees with a final tug and with it the humming of his powers flood out in all directions, an almost overwhelming pleasant warmth that chases away the chill of a damp, rainy day, running into every finger and down to the damp tips of his toes.

 

It feels easier to breathe, every sense ringing just a little bit clearer. His vision is sharper, he can smell the musk of rainsoaked earth with every inhale, and his hearing seems to go a little haywire for about ten seconds before everything settles down. It gets easier every time to settle the coursing river that comes pouring out of his core rather than the usual dampened and controlled stream it normally was and Chan wishes he could keep things like this forever.

 

He shoves the ring into the pocket of his jacket to keep it safe and then takes a deep breath to steady himself, closing his eyes to concentrate. Most people would need to chant the spell or draw runes but spatial magic runs in his blood, something he takes pride in, and all Chan needs to do is hold the incantation in his mind’s eye. He feeds the incantation with his core, keeping the intent clear just like he had been taught and then steps forward and through, letting his surroundings warp around him between one breath to the next.

 

He stumbles just a little on his landing, the ground going from that soft undergrowth to gravel, and he opens his eyes to catch his balance, feeling a chill brush down his spine as he takes in his surroundings.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh no._

 

He glances at the red umbrella held above him uselessly now, flicking the last drops of offending rain away as he closes it, letting sunlight stream down unto his face as he eyes the handle where his usual charm was conspicuously absent. Grimacing, Chan recalls the _other_ reason he hates rain - rain makes everything fitzy, his control especially so.

 

“Shit,” he swears lightly under his breath, kicking at a tiny shrub of a tree uselessly as if it was responsible for his plight and then says it again just for good measure when his tiny fit does nothing to solve his problem, “ _shit_.”

 

Patting himself down frantically, Chan breathes a sigh of relief when he feels the tiny mirror Seungcheol hyung insists they all carry for emergencies in his jean pocket, grateful for once that he had never broken the habit of taking that little circle of silver along. He taps it once and then again more urgently, hoping to the gods that the person who was supposed to pick up was the one who did.

 

His prayers are answered when Wonwoo hyung’s face swims into view, the older man slowly blinking sleep out of his eyes, hair still half-mussed and unbrushed, “….Chan? Something wrong?”

 

“Wonu hyung,” Chan finds himself whispering, hoping no one else overhears from the other side , “I, um, I need help.”

 

The words ‘I need help’ has Wonwoo sitting up, eyes alert instantly as they darted around the limited image the mirror provided him with, categorically trying to identify any injuries on the younger’s face, “What happened? Are you okay? Should I get-”

 

“Nononononono!” Chan cuts him off immediately, waving his hands frantically before remembering that he was holding the mirror and all Wonwoo would see was a blur, “Please don’t get any of the others! I’m not hurt, I promise! Can we, can we just keep this between you and me, hyung? Please? I’ll do dish duty for you for a week!”

 

“Two weeks,” Wonwoow is quick to bargain, “And you have five seconds to tell me exactly what you did and why you need help.”

 

“I, um..”

 

“Five, four, three, tw-”

 

“IkindatriedtotakeaportaltoschoolbecauseitwasrainingandnowIdon’tknowwhenIam.”

 

Wonwoo’s brows furrow, “You don’t know _what_?”

 

“I don’t know when I am,” Chan repeats slower this time.

 

“When?” the older puzzles over the odd phrasing for a moment before he groans, the sound low in his throat as he closes his eyes in exasperation, “How did you end up in another time?”

 

“It was raining?” Chan’s voice goes up half an octave from nerves, “I took Seungkwan hyung’s umbrella instead of mine by mistake? And it just, you know, it happens!”

 

“Where is your ring?” Wonwoo asks, sounding like he would much rather be sleeping still instead of dealing with this and Chan laughs sheepishly as he digs it out from his pocket and holds it up.

 

“Here!”

 

“Put it back on,” Wonwoo orders, standing up from his bed with a soft grunt of effort, “Maybe we should tattoo the rainy day charm into your skin so this doesn’t happen again.”

 

Chan snorts even as he complies, slipping the ring back on and giving a minute shiver as the effects of the artifact instantly kicks in, dampening and restricting the flow from his core, the pathways running along his nerve endings feeling disappointingly empty so much so that he was tempted to pull the ring off again, to keep it off for just a little while longer. But he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t because he’s in enough trouble as it is and the last thing he needs is any uncontrolled flare up when Wonwoo hyung does his thing to pull Chan back but…he gulps, quietly pulling the ring loose enough so that it lodges against his joint instead of sitting snug, giving him the illusion of having put it on without the full effects. The warmth floods his system immediately, his core singing happily and he has to repress the delighted shiver that runs through him as he listens to Wonwoo’s instructions and places the mirror on the ground. It has been too long since he’d been allowed to let his magic run free, he thinks, stepping on top of the mirror as instructed, waiting patiently for the familiar cool sensation of Wonwoo’s magic to seep in through his feet.

 

It takes a while before his skin is positively buzzing with it, feeling his hyung’s magic crawl across his arms and legs in complex patterns that tickle as he fights not to giggle, and then slowly, slowly, he can feel the world around him shift and fade away and Chan closes his eyes, never having quite liked the disorienting feeling of watching everything warp around him. When he opens his eyes again, everything is silent, the only sound echoing around him is Wonwoo hyung’s harsher than normal breathing.

 

All around him are metallic shades and an unnatural stillness, and Wonwoo is seated on what passed for a floor here beside him, trying to regulate his breath, sweat dotting his forehead and Chan instantly feels guilty. He crouches slowly and lays a hand on Wonwoo’s shoulder carefully, “Hyung, are you okay?”

 

Wonwoo glares at him lazily, his ire half-hearted at most. “Just give me a minute and you’re probably going to have to help me out for the rest of the journey. Goddess, this is why I wanted to get one of the others,” he mumbles the last part more to himself than to Chan, flopping backwards bonelessly, limbs just kind of floating in the warped space, “I’m too _tired_ for this and I hate space and time stuff.”

 

“I can spot you,” Chan rushes to promise, sitting down gingerly as _something_ bears his weight, “Hyung, your domain is always so _weird_.”

 

“Shut up,” the reprimand lacks any heat, “Beggars can’t be choosers. It’s easier this way and faster than me trying to spend forever figuring out when in time you ended up, unless you _wanted_ to be stranded in time for the next couple of days?”

 

“No……hey, hyung, you think you can take me to school instead of home?”

 

Wonwoo’s withering stare is the only answer he needs and Chan shrugs, “Worth a shot.”

 

“Spoiled brat,” the older man mutters, stretching fluidly as he gets to his feet, “Alright, palms on the back of my shoulders, try to keep your intent neutral and flow steady, let’s get you home. I should make you wash dishes for a month.”

 

Chan scrambles to his feet, a brief thrill going through him as he notes that he’s getting closer to the second tallest of his hyungs in height. “You agreed to two weeks,” he reminds Wonwoo even though he knows the other man remembers, putting his hands where directed.

 

“Mmm.”

 

The surface beneath them starts to warp at Wonwoo’s noncommittal reply and Chan falls silent and lets the other concentrate, watching in fascination as runes blaze to life in careful patterns, blooming out from beneath their feet as Wonwoo pulls both his magic and Chan’s through to etch a spellcircle around them. His mind wanders, entranced as he is by the perfectly precise shapes he still lacks the practice to make before being pulled back by Wonwoo’s warning grunt, and Chan hastens to tamp down on the surge of power that jumped from his core, yanking back the excess curious energy but it’s too late. He winces at the flash when the glowing runes flare from absorbing too much power too quickly, the ground beneath them falls away as the spellcircle yanks them out of the in-between space and dumps them onto the matching circle painted onto their living room floor with Iron-Ash ink.

 

Wonwoo lands underneath Chan and groans at the younger’s weight, trying to shove him off but then loosing the will to continue after mere moments, wondering when the other gained so much muscle to feel this heavy. “You’re cleaning that up,” he gestures to the floor, “And you’re paying for the ink, I ran out because of you.”

 

“Hyung, that wasn’t part of the deal,” Chan mumbles into Wonwoo’s back, purposely making himself into a dead weight just to be a brat.

 

“Umm…”

 

The hesitant sound of a voice that sounded both too high for Wonwoo’s low tenor and too mellow for Chan’s energetic tones has them both freezing. Chan gets up in a flash and Wonwoo sits up, sending the extra body flying off of him, the two of them staring at the stunned stranger who decidedly should _not_ have been there sandwiched between them. The stranger stares back, every ounce as startled and much more fearful than them both, frozen on his haunches and as if on cue, Chan’s ring slips from his pinky uselessly, emitting a light plinking sound as it hits the ground.

 

“Chan……”

 

Chan squeaks, rushing to pluck the ring from the ground and jamming it back securely onto his finger but it’s too late, much too late for that now. “Please don’t tell anyone else!” he blurts out, “I can fix this!”

 

“Don’t tell us what?”

 

 

_Oh shit, he was going to be grounded for a **century**._

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Chan spins around to face the speaker at the same time as his companions and then feels the terror drain from his joints just a little bit when he takes in who it was standing at the doorway, though the fierce pounding in his heart refuses to subside.

 

Okay, this was salvageable - Seokmin hyung was safe, or at least not the giver of punishments and _definitely_ bribable.

 

“Who is this? Did you bring a friend over?” Seokmin glances at the stranger with a friendly smile, “Hi, I’m Seokmin, nice to meet you!”

 

How he managed to miss the nearly two metre wide array the three of them were still sprawled over Chan has no idea but he decides to count his blessings instead. “Yeah, just a friend who wanted to go over a few things before class,” he fibs, hoping that the stranger won’t give him away, “What’re you up to today, hyung?”

 

Seokmin raises the buckets in his hands up into the air in explanation, the slightly loose handle of the one in his left means it swings back and forth precariously above him with an annoying squeaky sound, “Prep work; Joshua hyung needs fresh rainwater for a Cleansing tonight but he has a meeting so he asked me to set the buckets outside for him.”

 

“Oh,” Chan bites his lip, unable to help glancing down at the floorboards, “already? Didn’t we just do one less than three weeks ago?”

 

“He wouldn’t have to if you all used the ritual rooms like you were supposed to instead of doing whatever you wanted all over the house,” a familiar dry tone chimes in and Chan freezes as Jihoon hyung slinks out from the shadows, eyes fixed unerringly like laser points on the spell circle Chan was still kneeling awkwardly on top of, “What is this?”

 

“Um…” he hesitates, looking to Wonwoo for help.

 

He wants to say it’s nothing but that’ll just backfire; there’s no way Jihoon hyung can’t figure out what the spellcircle was for in the next two minutes by the ways that he was already scanning the script, picking every piece of it apart. Wonwoo’s eyebrows rise upwards minutely, a silent confirmation that there’s no way they’re going to be able to hide this from Jihoon hyung, and before Chan can open his mouth Wonwoo is already speaking. “Chan had a bit of a mishap he needed some help out of,” he says, both a vague explanation and a way of absolving himself of most of the blame, and Chan almost hisses at him, the traitor.

 

Several emotions flicker over Jihoon’s face too quickly for Chan to catch them all before the older man snorts. “Have fun getting that out of the floor before Jeonghan hyung wakes up,” Jihoon reminds them, leading for them both to pale, realizing that one of their hyungs was still in the house.

 

“Hyung!” Chan is quick to pounce on the older man, eyes wide with urgency, “You wouldn’t sell us out would you?”

 

“Sell you out?” Jihoon raises an eyebrow and snorts, “I was never part of this, how could I sell you out.”

 

“Are you going to tell Jeonghan hyung?” Chan presses.

 

“Do I even need to?” Jihoon questions, eyeing the spell circle pointedly.

 

“Hyung, it was just an accident,” Chan starts to swing Jihoon’s arm back and forth, pleadingly, “I didn’t mean to. You can help me cover it up this once, right?”

 

“Why should I help you cover up when you break the rules and don’t take any of the safety precautions we already gave you?” Jihoon points out mercilessly and Chan whines deep in his throat, wondering who had pissed Jihoon hyung off already so early in the morning, leaving him to deal with the older man in this state.

 

Chan looks towards Wonwoo hyung for help, only to find that the other man had started to quietly scrub the spellcircle from the ground. The scent of camphor oil and lemongrass fills the air as Wonwoo tries to quickly scour the ink from the ground, glancing up towards the stairs periodically, ready to flee at the first sign of Jeonghan.

 

“Hey! Are we having a party?” Seungkwan bounces in through the front door, smiling brightly as he sets a bulging bag down by his feet.

 

“Hyung! Don’t you have class?” Chan asks nervously as more and more people show up to witness his crime.

 

“Cancelled,” Seungkwan sings, kicking his shoes off and towards the shoe rack with an unerring accuracy, “Archmagus Max had a, uh, family emergency, classes will resume next week.”

 

Jihoon looks over, interested, “What was it this time?”

 

Seungkwan grins, delighted to be the bearer of gossip, “Magus Taemin said that Archmagus Yunho walked into a dragon’s hoard with his class to prove a point.”

 

Wonwoo snorts, covering his mouth with his hands instinctively and then grimacing as he smears camphor oil all over his face accidentally. “You know,” Chan says, half-admiringly, “I would absolutely love to be in Archmagus Yunho’s classes.”

 

“You’d die before the day was out,” Jihoon snarks before shaking his head wonderingly, “Did some idiot call Archmagus Yunho old within hearing range again?”

 

Seungkwan shrugs, “At this point, I’m starting to think there’s someone paying idiots to say that outloud just so we all get to see what Archmagus Yunho does in response. His poor husband though….”

 

“Whose poor husband?” Seokmin asks, popping back into the house sans buckets, “Ooh! Seungkwannie, did you drop by the store already? Mingyu was going to ask you to pick up witch hazel on your way back home today, apparently we’re running low.”

 

“Archmagus Max had to cancel class,” Seungkwan says by way of explanation, “And no, I didn’t go to the store yet, did Mingyu say how much we need?”

 

Seokmin shrugs one shoulder, pulling a face as he starts towards his own room to grab his bags and head out himself. “Nope, but our usual order will probably do? He's in the studio if you want to confirm. Hey, Chan,” the young man backpedals, head tilted curiously, “Aren’t you going to be late for your class?”

 

“He’s already late,” Jihoon snorts, making his way into the kitchen and pulling open all of Mingyu’s neatly labelled drawers, rummaging around for the good peppermint tea blend, “It’s half-past nine.”

 

“Oh, well, it wasn’t very nice for your friend to ditch you but I guess attendance is important,” Seokmin nods sagely, heading for his room again, not noticing Chan’s momentary confusion and then his frozen expression.

 

“Hyung, what did you say? My friend what?”

 

Seokmin turns back, perplexed, “Your friend….ditched you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume the worse, he’s just in the washroom, isn’t he?”

 

Chan looks around the room wildly, feeling himself start to hyperventilate when he spots neither hair nor hide of the stranger. “Oh fuck,” he breathes, realizing he had lost track of their errant guest.

 

“Language,” calls a lazy voice from upstairs and Chan whimpers, certain that his short life was going to come to an abrupt end, “Now what’s this that you boys did to my living room floor?”

 

“Our living room floor,” Jihoon corrects Jeonghan.

 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Chan repeats before bolting for the door, deciding that he might as well go out with a bang if he’s going to die anyways, “I have class, bye hyung, see you maybe never!”

 

He doesn’t get within three feet of the door before the deadbolts slam themselves shut and then Jeonghan hyung was standing there at the foot of the stairs, smile terrifyingly benign, “Let’s try that again, shall we, Channie? What did you do to the living room floor?”

 

“It was Wonwoo hyung!” Chan half-shouts, and Wonwoo curses before throwing the rag sodden with oils at Chan’s direction where it lands sadly at his feet.

 

“Chan took off his ring and ended up in another time,” the other man is quick to interject, “I was only trying to get him back home before he caused a temporal disturbance, the circle’s almost cleaned up.”

 

“Thank you, Wonwoo,” Jeonghan says sweetly, “Clean up the rest of the circle now, please, and I’ll let Joshua know that you’re helping him for the Cleansings tonight and for the rest of the season.”

 

Wonwoo nods, knowing that’s the best that he’s going to get, and honestly, a few sleepless nights while being Joshua’s errand boy was hardly the worst punishment out there. Besides, any protesting would just get him into more trouble and the season was half-way over anyways.

 

“Chan, hand,” Jeonghan commands, watching as Chan awkwardly shuffles over, holding out his right arm reluctantly.

 

Jeonghan grabs his wrist and slaps a limiter around it within seconds, the spell glowing on his own skin for a moment before it filtered through his fingers, starlit lines darting across Chan’s forearm before settling into a familiar pattern that Chan had come to hate over the past decade. “Ah, hyung!” he complains, pulling his arm back with a scowl as he inspected the cuff that looked more like a faded tattoo circling his wrist, “I’m not a child anymore!”

 

“If you’re going to act like a child, I will treat you like one,” Jeonghan sniffs, “Until you prove that you’re responsible enough not to meddle in things you _know_ you’re not trained properly in _and_ that you can be trusted to do so without proper supervision, that’s not coming off.”

 

Chan feels something bubble up in his chest, it tastes like indignancy, and he tamps down the urge to argue, knowing Jeonghan hyung will just see it as another sign of him acting like a child. A part of him wishes that the other hyungs were around because for all that Seungcheol hyung was stricter on discipline than Jeonghan hyung usually was, Seungcheol hyung was also much more easily swayed into reducing punishments. Instead he stands there, pride smarting and biting his tongue, feeling every inch the scolded child.

 

“Is there anything else you want to tell me now?” Jeonghan stands there with his arms crossed, tapping his foot, and Chan swallows nervously.

 

He could deny it but the stranger had been seen by too many people at this point. “Uh…..I might have…”

 

Chan mumbles the last part and Jeonghan frowns, “Louder and clearer, please, Chan.”

 

“I said. I might have. Accidentally brought a stranger back?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

At the sound of light footsteps entering his studio, Mingyu looks up to see an unfamiliar face in the doorway. The stranger looks nervous, lower lip caught between their teeth as their eyes dart around the room, looking two seconds from bolting, and all Mingyu can think is, _cute_.

 

“Hey,” he waves just a little awkwardly, “Are you looking for someone?”

 

The stranger whirls to face him, eyes wide, taking two quick steps back as he stares uncomprehendingly.

 

“Are you okay?” Mingyu frowns a little in concern, holding his hands up to show he has not ill intentions as he walks closer.

 

The stranger stares at him intensely before opening his mouth and out comes what might as well be gobbledygook to Mingyu. Oh. A language barrier then. Mingyu tries his best to make out what language the stranger is speaking, wondering who left their foreign friend alone and confused in the house, gesturing for him to repeat himself. The stranger seems to realize what Mingyu means and repeats what he said slower, expression still hesitant.

 

It takes a moment for Mingyu to place but then he realizes he’s heard a similar dialect before, not entirely the same, but similar enough that he knows who to call for help. He smiles his friendliest smile and mimes picking up a phone even as he pulls his cell out of his phone and dials a number.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Hey, Junnie hyung, did one of your friends come over?”

 

“Uh, no? I’m at a sensory workshop right now so I’m not expecting anyone, did someone drop by?”

 

“Oh, uh, there’s a stranger here and he doesn’t speak Geron, but the language he’s speaking kind of reminds me of the dialect from your hometown so I thought maybe you had a friend visiting? He looks really confused and I’m trying to ask him if he’s okay but he doesn’t understand me.”

 

“Oh, okay, no I don’t have anyone from home visiting that I know of, do you uh, wanna hand the phone to him and I’ll try and see if I can talk to him?”

 

“Yeah, sure, hang on,” Mingyu steps closer carefully, holding out the phone to the stranger, gesturing for the other to hold it to his ear when the stranger only looks at the phone confused after he accepts it gingerly.

 

Well, he hoped Jun hyung could sort all this out, but really, Mingyu scratches his head, who brought this stranger into their house?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, I meant to update earlier but i got caught up in exams and then a move, sorry! Honestly, the hardest thing about this chapter was probably _not_ veering into an entire side story about Yunho storming a dragon's hoard with his class and all the other things he gets up to. I imagine things went something like this:
> 
> Yunho: I AM **FIRE**  
>  Changmin: MAYBE YES, BUT BABE, YOUR STUDENTS ARE NOT FIRE-PROOF, PLEASE DON'T TAKE THEM TO DRAGON RESERVES  
> Yunho: but dragons are perfectly friendly!  
> Changmin: TO YOU. THEY'RE FRIENDLY TO **YOU**.
> 
> But anyways, this is supposed to be a SVT fic, my rampant inner homin soul needs to chill.
> 
> I'm also trying to be more active on [twitter](https://twitter.com/InFull13loom) so please do come say hi, I need friends ._.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know where this came from, but to be fair, it was going to be this or some horror AU so probably this was the better option.
> 
> Feedback/comments are very much appreciated? xx


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